It's Only Forever
by Arashi Maxwell
Summary: Who wished Jareth away? This is another, I should hope unique, take on how he became the Goblin King after being wished away by his stepmother.
1. Chapter 1

My second _Labyrinth _story! I thought of this because my three year old nephew watched _Labyrinth _with me and kept asking things like "Why's Toby in the castle?" and I'd tell him cause Sarah wished him away. A day or two later my nephew came up to me while I was watching a video, climbed into my lap, and asked "Who wished Jareth away?" So, my over-active mind through all this up. Now after that rediculous intro, I hope you like the story. Review and let me know, won't you?

Oh, and this is dedicated to Carrie88, for the review in my last story which made me feel so good. Thank you!

* * *

"Jared, will you please stop crying!" The young woman who spoke had long, curly blonde hair pulled up elegantly on the back of her head. Her eighteenth-century dress rustled slightly as she deposited her step-son into his crib. Jared continued crying angrily as he squirmed onto his stomach and rattled the bars of his crib. Victoria turned to the door and glanced over her shoulder once. "Sometimes you make me wish the goblins in your sister's story would come take you away. Such as right now."

Jared's crying stopped abruptly as Victoria stepped into the hall and she froze. She turned slowly to face the dark room and stepped back in. "Jared? What's wrong?" A giggle from her left made she spin to face it, only to find the room empty. Something moved in the crib and Victoria sighed, her hand going to her heart. "Oh, Jared! I don't have time for this!"

A gust of wind rattled the door, making Victoria jump again. The baby in the crib make an odd, unbaby-like noise and Victoria approached slowly, a thrill of terror growing in her stomach. "Jared?" She reached out and tugged the blanket back to reveal…nothing. An empty crib sat before her and she stared down into it, the terror leaving and an odd anger growing in its place. "Jared, where have you gone?"

Another gust of wind crashed against the window, rattling the panes of glass, and then throwing them abruptly open. A golden eagle soared through and alighted on the floor just inside. As soon as it had landed, it disappeared and was replaced by a man. He was tall and slender, dressed in an elegant poet's shirt, black knee-high boots, and a black cloak. His short, golden hair stuck out from his head in an odd sort of halo and contrasted with his palest gray eyes.

"W-who are you?" Victoria demanded, "How dare you break into my house!"

The man smiled slightly, more of a smirk than anything, and crossed his arms. "I am Ciaràn, King of the Goblins."

"Goblins? I hardly believe in such childish stories anymore, Sir." Victoria brushed the front of her skirt absently and frowned at the tall man.

"And yet you called on me." The smile never dropped from the man's face as he took a step into the room.

"Called on…?" Victoria waved a hand dismissively, "You can't honestly expect me to believe that. I didn't actually believe someone would come take the child."

"Too late now, isn't it?" Ciaràn held a hand out to Victoria, "And now I have a…proposition for you." A crystal ball appeared on his fingertips. "I will trade the child for this."

"A crystal ball?" Victoria laughed derisively, "Please, Sir, do not attempt to make a fool of me."

"I make no such attempt." Ciaràn began to roll the crystal around his hand in what seemed almost a habit. "This crystal is very special. You see, if you turn it this way…and look into it, it will show you your dreams."

Victoria, entranced by the crystal's movements, reached out for it. She stopped with her fingers a hairsbreadth from the smooth surface, "If I take this, then you take the child?" Ciaràn nodded and Victoria frowned slightly, "And if I refuse?"

"You would refuse your dreams?" Ciaràn proffered the crystal, "For the sake of a squalling baby?"

Victoria seemed to consider it and then smiled coldly and grasped the crystal, "The boy is not my child. Take him and do what you wish."

Ciaràn bowed to Victoria and disappeared suddenly, leaving only the echo of a laugh as she stood with the crystal in hand. Somehow she felt as if she had lost.

---''&''---

Ciaràn appeared in his throne room and snapped his fingers. "Bring him here." A goblin appeared, toting the still-crying Jared behind him, and deposited the boy in front of Ciaràn before he returned to the crowd of other goblins.

"That's enough, boy." Ciaràn scooped Jared up and held him at arms length. The boy stopped crying and hiccoughed slightly as he stared back into the pale gray eyes. "Better. What is your name, Boy?"

"Jewad," Jared hiccoughed as Ciaràn settled himself into his throne and set the baby on his knee. The Goblin King frowned and leaned back, scrutinizing the boy now sucking complacently on his thumb.

"Jared? Too human, we shall have to come up with something new." He seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment and then smiled. "I know…yes, Jareth. Close enough not to confuse you, but also no longer human."

As soon as he finished speaking, Jared squirmed off his lap and waddled to the window. "Mama?"

"You mother is not here."

Jared considered Ciaràn's words for a minute, "Why?"

"Because, Jareth, now she has her dreams. She no longer cares about you," Ciaràn joined him at the window and looked out at the twilit sky that stretched over the labyrinth. Beside him, Jared was still staring up at him, "Why?"

* * *

A little short, but I wanted to end it there. After this there will be a few time skips, but I hope it doesn't confuse anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

Yay! I'm glad for all the feedback guys, it really helps. AKA, Keep it comin'. Oh, I lied about the time skip. It would have made the chapter longer, but I didn't have a good place to cut it off that wouldn't just have been stupid-sounding. So, the next part is the next chapter. I'm really sorry, I'll try and make them longer after this, I promise.

My sister just said I should have named Jareth "David" as a human. I didn't get it at first, but it's actually very clever.

* * *

"Jareth?!" Ciaràn turned a corner in the labyrinth and sighed when he still did not see the boy anywhere. He knew Jareth was somewhere around, but pinpointing him was like catching smoke in your hands…Unless you cheated, of course. Ciaràn fished one of the crystals from his pockets, he had never been one for needless conjuring, and concentrated on it. A picture slowly formed in it of a boy around six or seven, as humans see, crouching atop one of the walls. The boy watched the passage beneath him with sharp, mismatched eyes beneath a wild mop of white-blonde hair. 

Ciaràn smiled slightly and took a step forward, disappearing and then reappearing right behind the boy. He crouched silently down and said into the boy's ear, "You know coming on the walls is cheating."

Jareth jumped and spun away, wind milling slightly to keep his balance. "Father! So is looking in the crystals!"

Ciaràn waved a hand slightly, "You ran off in the middle of class, there is no cheating on my side."

Jareth made a face, but followed as Ciaràn turned and began to walk along the top of the wall. He fell into step beside the tall man and they walked in silence for a minute. Finally, Jareth looked up at his adoptive father, "So? What happens when a mortal becomes one of us?"

"That would depend on what the mortal is becoming," Ciaràn looked down at the small boy out of the corner of his eye. "Give me an example."

"Well…me. You said I used to be mortal."

Ciaràn paused slightly, "Yes. You are a very special case, however. When the king chooses his heir, he gives up his right to the throne and begins to return to mortality. The heir becomes king and more or less immortal until he chooses an heir of his own."

"What do you mean, 'returns to mortality'?" Jareth nearly tripped off the wall as he stared up at Ciaràn.

"They begin to age once more, after a fashion, and eventually die." Ciaràn smiled at Jareth and then looked up at the castle they were slowly approaching, "A mortal may also become one of us when he or she has spent more than thirteen hours in the labyrinth. Or, if I had taken a Queen, she would have become one of us as well until I relinquished the throne to an heir."

Jareth thought over Ciaràn's words as he walked, jumping over a tree branch that was beginning to reach over the wall. "So it all depends on finding an heir? But why would you do that if you could have immortality without it?"

"Forever is very long," Ciaràn laughed and ruffled Jareth's hair. "There are many reasons you might. It's lonely. And if you find a Queen, she may not be willing to live in the Underground."

"Why did you?" Jareth looked up at Ciaràn, who smiled back at him without answering.

---&---

It was several days before Jareth breached the topic with Ciaràn again. It was late in the afternoon, the sun beginning to make long shadows in the alleys of the Labyrinth and just tinge with sunset's orange. Jareth's small feet barely made a sound and he moved slowly down the corridor toward Ciaràn's study. A voice called him in at his nock and he pushed the heavy door slowly open. The room within was large and airy, the walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books, from leather- to cloth-bound books of every color. A large desk sat in the center, behind which Ciaràn sat, pouring over several books and occasionally stopping to scribble a note into a thick book beside him. He looked up and smiled at Jareth, motioning him into the room. Jareth stepped in and stood fidgeting just inside the door. Ciaràn made a final note in his book and closed it, looking curiously at Jareth.

"What is it?"

Jareth shifted from foot to foot and looked past his father to the window. Ciaràn smiled slightly and sat back patiently, waiting for Jareth to speak first. The boy took a deep breath and looked Ciaràn in the eye, "You didn't answer my question."

Ciaràn sighed, his smile falling slightly as he turned his head to stare at the far wall. It was Jareth's turn to wait, and he did so as patiently as his father had. Several silent minutes passed before Ciaràn let loose another sigh and stood up, facing Jareth now. The white-haired boy looked up at his father as he stepped around the desk. "Jareth...there are some things that are impossible to explain. Right now, you are not old enough. It wouldn't make sense to you." Jareth scowled, but Ciaràn smiled slightly. "When you are older, when _I_ think you are ready, I will tell you."

Jareth's scowl didn't change, but he nodded slowly. Ciaràn stood and looked down at his adoptive son as he stared absently at the floor. He patted Jareth on the head and moved back to his seat and the waiting book. Jareth climbed into a nearby, squishy armchair and settled back to watch his father.

* * *

Okay, this one is kind of short too, but I actually made it a little longer than it originally was. I really like Ciaràn and I wanted you to see more of his interaction? with Jareth. So I added the last part. I don't know, all your support has really helped, so please continue. As I said. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, the time skip you probably all hate by now! Yay! Sorry. I think this chapter actually is longer though, so that's good, right? This is where the actually story gets started, I guess, but is also the second to last chapter that I have pre-typed. So the next update will be fast and then they might slow down a bit. With school and all, you know. Anyway, hope you all like this chapter as well.

* * *

Jareth sat in his father's throne, one leg draped over the arm as he perused a book he had found in the library. He was now sixteen as a human sees and parts of his hair were starting to grow out, though his eyes remained a mismatched blue and green. A goblin crashed into the room, his amour clattering as his hit the floor in a clumsy bow and then leapt back to his feet.

"Your highness, your highness!" Jareth made a noise to show he was listening, but didn't look up from the book. The goblin paused for a second to compose himself, failed, and then wailed, "The king has returned, your highness, and he is wounded!"

"What?!" The book fell to the ground, forgotten, as Jareth leapt to his feet. "Where? How?"

"He's in the Infirmary, and-" He never finished as Jareth sprinted past him and out the door. Goblins leapt aside for fear of being run down by the speeding prince making for the Infirmary. He burst through the doors and stood panting slightly as he stared around.

"Please, your highness, we must treat his wou-" A small, female goblin tried to usher Jareth out, but he dodged around her a moved to the only occupied bed. Ciaràn was lying on the bed, his eyes closed and his face unnaturally pale. He made no reaction as Jareth stopped beside him and lifted the loose bandages around his stomach. Long, angry cuts that crisscrossed themselves on his stomach and ribs, and blood had stained both the cloth and his torso red.

"We must tend him, your highness, please," The small female goblin whispered as she appeared at Jareth's elbow. Rather than leave the room as was expected, Jareth retreated to one of the walls and stood waiting. The goblins around the King sighed, but took what they could and returned to their work.

It was several hours before they finally stepped back, still with worry written on their faces, but not as strongly as before. Jareth swept past the doctors and stopped once more beside the bed. Ciaràn's complexion was much better, some of the blood having returned to his face. He still made no reaction and Jareth grabbed a nearby chair, pulling it around and setting it beside the bed.

One of the goblin women, the one that had tried to shoo Jareth out, sighed. "Please tell us when he wakes, your highness. Someone will come change his bandages in a while."

Jareth made no sign that he had heard, but the woman set to work herding the others out before she retired to an adjacent room. All the while the Prince remained seated beside his father's bed, waiting and watching.

When Ciaràn finally woke it was late into the night and the Infirmary was silent. He tried to sit up, but abandoned the attempt when pain shot through his stomach. Instead, he lay on the feather mattress and looked around.

His eyes finally landed on Jareth, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed with his cheek resting on his shoulder. Ciaràn smiled slightly and somehow managed to pull the blanket that was folded at the end of the bed up within arms reach and then to drape it over Jareth without jarring his wounds too bad. As soon as he had finished, the toll from his work drew him back into the thick black of unconsciousness.

Jareth blinked awake and straightened, wincing at the pain in his neck. A thick, scratchy blanket slid off of him and hit the floor with a quiet thump. From the bed Ciaràn shifted slightly and grunted, his eyes slowly blinking open.

"You're awake!" Jareth leapt up, "I'll get Kayren."

Ciaràn's rasped word of protest was lost as Jareth hurried to the door through which the female goblin had gone the night before. Ciaràn rested back against the pillow and waited until Jareth returned with the small, wrinkled goblin behind him.

"How are you feeling, Sire?" Kayren checked Ciaràn's bandages and then set about changing the stained cloths. The King made a noise through his clenched jaw as Kayren gently massaged a cream into the injuries.

"What happened?" Jareth's eyes were riveted to the still slowly bleeding wounds in his father's sides.

Ciarån settled back against the pillows as Kayren stepped away, the bloody rags bundled in her arms. She dipped a rough curtsey and left the room. Jareth shifted and frowned expectantly at Ciaràn, who was refusing to meet his eye.

"Father, what happened?"

Ciaràn smiled casually at Jareth and shrugged, "There was a fight on our return from the Eastern Kingdom. A group of brigands ambushed us in the forest, nothing more." Jareth frowned and sat back in his chair, keeping silent. Ciaràn sighed and shook his head, "Nothing more, Jareth."

"Your highness," Kayren appeared again at the door, "you both need rest. These wounds are serious and he needs time to heal. You need sleep."

Jareth glanced again at Ciaràn, who waved him away with another smile, and then let Kayren usher him out. As soon as the prince's footsteps had disappeared down the hall, Kayren returned to the Ciaràn's bedside. "Did you tell him how you were injured?" Ciaràn shook his head and the goblin sighed, "He will eventually figure it out. Those wounds…may never stop bleeding."

"If need be, we'll cauterize them." Ciaràn shifted slightly, wincing at the injuries. Worry made a wrinkle between Kayren's eyes, but she remained silent.

---&---

"He still won't tell me what happened!" Jareth paced restlessly back and forth across the Infirmary. Kayren looked up from a goblin whose leg she was bandaging and shook her head.

"The wounds have stopped bleeding, haven't they?" Kayren tied off the bandages and the goblin hobbled out of the Infirmary. She smiled slightly at the Prince as he continued to pace back and forth.

"So he says…but he still wears the bandages and…walks and acts slightly different."

Kayren started, but covered it up by bending to straighten the blankets on the bed. Jareth sighed as he came to a stop at one of the large windows that overlooked the gardens. He seemed to decide something and turned abruptly to leave the Infirmary.

* * *

Thank you all so much for your support. It's helps, it really does.

I'm a little depressed writing this cause I like Ciaràn and he got hurt. Still, I like this person that comes up in a little while, so he'll probably get shot in the face or something. I'm so mean.


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